


Free-roam

by LeDiz



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amira rage-quits, Multi, POV Second Person, Unfinished, lots of bad and unimaginative language, mostly the game but also the game format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: A prologue in which you, Amira, rage-quit the game format in what you claim to be a crisis of moral conscience (or maybe moral consciousness?) but is totally just because you keep losing. Quit lying, you loser.
Kudos: 17





	Free-roam

You suspect that this could possibly have gone better if you had made a different decision. But when it comes down to two ridiculous choices, and one of them involved russian literature, can you really be blamed for assuming the correct answer was drugs?

“Ugh. Would you please stop assuming I’m so two-dimensional? I am fan-favourite Polly. I have at least, like, three dimensions. It makes it much easier to imagine fucking me from behind.”

The narrator pops up to note she has a point, and that that’s a good two dimensions more than you have, given the nature of your choices.

“To be fair,” Vera says, thankfully oblivious to the narrator as always, “you do spend most of your appearances proclaiming how drunk or high you are.”

“Oh, like you can talk, Miss Drug Cartel Crime Boss,” Polly snaps back. The narrator expresses surprise at the fact that you have apparently fucked this up so badly that Polly’s actually going to take her annoyance out on the other students. It’s certainly unusual. “At least my hidden depths aren’t unlocked through side-character extras.”

“I have a very carefully cultivated image to maintain, and you would thank yourself to stay the fuck out of it,” hisses Vera. “Also, I am in no way associated with drugs, cartels, or crime. At least, not unless there’s some profit in it.”

“Yeah, yeah, line six through seven-hundred and fifty-seven, we have played this scene. Do you have any new material, or should we just ask your hair for some originality?”

Wow. You and the narrator are both shocked. This is normally the part where you come in and solve the issue with a fairly obvious inane choice. But at this point, you’ve already made your horrendous failure of a decision, so normally this would be where the two ridiculously sexy women join forces to agree that while they may hate each other, they at least hate you more.

Oh dear. Does this mean that you’re not actually the player character in this scene? Shit! Then what the hell are you doing here?

You quickly take stock.

You are Amira, a fire djinn with hot hair and a hotter body, and you were on track to sweep Polly off her mostly metaphorical feet (since, you know, you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen her feet), and more importantly – away from the gropey hands of your friend Vicky.

Polly is Polina Geist, a ghost made up of equal parts sex, drugs, and liquid drugs… and apparently russian literature, who knew? Vera Oberlin is a gorgon with an eye for money and anything that can get her more money. Vicky is a patch-work monster made of many dead humans, most of whom had great hair. Bitch. You love her dearly.

You are, however, a little concerned that since you’re obviously not resolving this scene yourself, you may have just set up an excellent scenario for Vicky to saunter into. She’s been focussing pretty hardcore on CREATIVITY lately, so it’s pretty likely she’ll have some unique and inspiring way out of this.

Double shit. You really shouldn’t have spent so much time partying under the tree. Maybe if you’d just skipped class, or worse, gone to class, you would’ve come out of this a little better.

And yet, Vicky doesn’t appear. It’s actually Brian who wanders into the picture, and for a moment, both you and the narrator are highly confused. Brian has been chasing Liam (because that ending polaroid, man), and so has neither the FUN nor MONEY to interest either of the foxy young ladies in front of you.

Brian is a zombie. A very CHARMing and BOLD zombie, but a zombie nonetheless. He’s also making all the wrong choices lately. For Brian to be here, someone done fucked up. The narrator suspects it’s you, and you’re inclined to –

Oh.

Oh, wait.

Wait. You know how this happened.

Fucking _Oz_.

See, this is the problem with the whole four-player scenario thing. Everyone has their own goddamn agenda and that can completely screw over everyone else’s (hence you plotting the entirely accidental murder of your best friend since childhood and having to avoid her casual attempts to poison you in return. Only one of you will get to bang Polly and it sure as shit ain’t gonna be your hand you cosy up to on Prom Night). Fucking Oz, the fucking huggable personification of fucking fear with their fucking adorable little phobia-friends, is on one of their fucking Slayer-hunts, which means they’re taking every fucking chance to fucking talk to the fucking lunatic.

And today, said fucking lunatic was stalking fucking Liam and Damien. How fucking unusual!

The outcome of which was Oz deciding to have lunch with Liam and Damien. Which meant Brian couldn’t have lunch with Liam. But you had already gone to the shop to buy those sweet buffing Shades, and Vicky had gone to the Interdimensional Prince because she figured she might be able to get a stat boost by putting up with his shit for five minutes (she’d been right, but you still don’t think it was worth it), so Brian decided to go chill with Vera and Miranda. And because he’s been making all the wrong choices in his quest for Liam’s YAOI ending, he’s made himself a prime suitor for Vera.

God fucking damn.

He frowns, obviously as unimpressed with this outcome as you are, but the narrator just shrugs and turns to him, reminding him of his two options about how to settle the argument between Vera and Polly.

He considers carefully, realises he isn’t SMART enough for one option, and goes with the other. “I dunno, Polly. I think it’s a better idea to remain mysterious, don’t you? I mean, who wants to read a two-thousand page mystery novel when the first two pages detail the killer, what they did, why they did it, and who they did it to?”

“Exactly,” Vera agrees smoothly. “Personally, I prefer a good thriller that leaves room for a sequel, or even a highly profitable franchise, all centred around the endless game of cat and mouse between a tough, rugged, slightly decomposed detective and his incredibly attractive prey, always hidden in the shadows, slipping out of his grasp, and watching him squirm.” She smiles, her snakes coiling seductively. “I wonder just how long such a series can go before she… surrenders.”

Polly slaps a hand over her face, Brian stops regretting his poor choices so much, and you wonder if the personification of fear has enough of a tangible neck to strangle.

Again – the problem with a four-player scenario: there has to be a winner. Only one of you ever gets their date to Prom. At best, you can choose to go alone (and hopefully you’ve made yourself cool enough for that to be okay), or not at all, and hope you’ve got something better lined up. And right now, Brian’s kicking all your asses on accident.

“Hey noobs!” An arm slings over your shoulders and you find yourself covered in the smell of brimstone and too much cologne. Damien grins at you all. “Not that I care at all, but does anyone know where that little trash-mammal in the yellow sweatshirt is? He really saved my ass at lunch today – in fact, he’s kind of been acting like a totally CHARMing, SMART, and CREATIVE badass lately. I kinda gotta hit that, you know?”

The narrator is altogether too amused by this turn of events, because the narrator know everyone’s stats, including the unseen heart ratings. And so you decide to call time on this bullshit.

“Alt-F4, bitches,” you say firmly. “I’m not losing to someone that doesn’t even give a crap.”

“Say what?” is all Polly has time to say, before you rage-quit and kind of screw Oz out of like, four different achievements. You’re kind of a bitch, you know that?

* * *

“I’m hitting the gym and the library, with occasional sojourns to the bathroom, because fuck all that class-time,” you announce. “Vera is mine and y’all can suck it if you fight me.”

“You can have her,” Vicky says with a grin. “I think I’m gonna party a lot and up-skill in dodgeball. I want some wolf tail!”

Brian considers. He considers for a long time. SMARTS don’t come naturally to him, and CREATIVITY isn’t really appropriate, either – though he does make a dragon costume look good. So as much as his ending polaroid with Liam is enough to squish even the hardest of hearts, he would really be better off going for someone else. Damien’s a good choice – his stats are appropriate, and that is a sweet ass, but you understand the reluctance. You stopped going for Damien for two reasons: one, his love of fire means you’re never sure if he wants to fuck you or just your hair, and two, hearing ‘fuckin’ _metal_ ’ every other minute gets old.

“You could go for Miranda,” Vicky suggests cheerfully. “Really play into that whole corruption of the innocent virgin thing!”

“She’ll never feel more alive than when she gets a little death,” Oz pipes up, and you wish you had enough SMARTS to know what they’re talking about, because you’re pretty sure Vera would find that line CHARMing.

Brian, on the other hand, glares. “Um…?”

“Th- the little death caused by what I’m sure is the _big_ undead,” they clarify awkwardly, and you all hate them because the adorable little bastard is a fan-favourite for a reason.

And, being a contradictory little shit, they also decide not to go for anyone in particular, because if this game has taught any of you anything, it’s that fate is a bigger bitch than any of you, and sometimes choices are really awkwardly worded, so why not just go with whatever?

Of course, in the end, the little asshole ends up stumbling into an orgy, making sure the rest of you don’t get anything. Typical, is what it is.

* * *

Okay. This time. _This_ time!

“I think I’m gonna try for Liam,” Oz says, tapping a finger against what on anyone else would have been a mouth. You’re pretty sure there’s a mouth in there with like, six bazillion shark teeth, but they’re nice enough to hide it. You’re not sure how they talk, or kiss, or manage to give reputedly awesome oral sex, but whatever. “Do you think we’ll sound the same when we orgasm?”

“Probably!” Vicky says cheerfully. “It’s worth trying to find out!”

She’s going for Vera this time. You’d accuse her of copying you, except that ending polaroid is adorbs so again with the whatever.

Brian is going to go for Scott, because there’s a lot to be said for love on the dodgeball court. “I’m going to be Prince of the Furries,” he decides, and you all tell him to rock on.

You’re going for the Shop Keeper. Because if anyone’s gonna fuck this up for everyone this time, it’s gonna be you!

“Will that make you Queen of the Furries?” Vicky asks, and you and Brian look at each other. This is suddenly awkward.

But you try anyway. But then it turns out you can’t even hook up with Valerie on a four-player scenario, so what the actual fuck.

At least Oz doesn’t get Liam to Prom. This is probably because Vera and Scott keep cornering you on the weekends and so you throw all your considerable effort into making sure Vicky and Brian have a better chance to hook up with their respective love interests. Brian wins because dodgeball is the sport of lovers, but Oz is still satisfied, because when they tell everyone the story of their rejection, they manage to sound _exactly_ like Liam, and for some reason that’s enough for the little weirdo.

* * *

You’re starting to think the game format is problematic.

Is it really okay, what you’re doing? Is it really okay to compete with your three best friends to see who can score a date on Prom Night? Shouldn’t love be about love, or at the very least extremely hot and potentially life-risking lust, not competition?

The narrator wonders whether you’re thinking this because this is the sixth round in a row that you’ve ended up rejected, alone, and fighting for the right to marry your own hand.

You ignore the narrator.

This, by the way, is what’s _actually_ problematic. You can’t ignore a narrator. A narrator – well, _narrates_. A narrator tells you what’s happening. A narrator kind of runs things.

You wonder how that can be, because the narrator isn’t always around. The narrator normally only pops up during scenarios. And yet you’re still able to do things when the narrator isn’t there. You’re still able to interact with others. You’re a little surprised you’ve never noticed this before.

It’s probably just a problem with the changed format to written story, and you should ignore it.

 _Also_ , you interject rather rudely, how is it fair that you and your friends can all do everything right, and all go for different people, and yet at the end of it, only one person can actually get a date to Prom? That’s stupid and lousy, is what it is!

 _And_ , you continue to demand like the tantrum-throwing child you are, how come your personalities are so fluid? You have personalities! That’s pretty fucking obvious from your polaroids and shit! You’re like, teeming with personality! So how come you can totally remake yourself depending on who you feel like going after?

That’s like, absolutely not the right message to be sending, you think furiously. You shouldn’t construct yourself to suit who you want to date!

Which is true. But having an actual character with depth and personality as the protagonist is not really the point of a dating sim. And one could argue that images don’t tell the whole story – just because you flare up and scream your head off at Liam for beating you in that one picture doesn’t mean you have anger issues. It means Liam is being a dick in that one scene. And Liam is kind of a dick all the time, so who can really be shocked by that?

You scoff. It’s not a good enough argument. You want depth! You want character development! You want story-driven outcomes!

...it sounds like you’re rage-quitting the game format.

And, after a few more moments to consider, that’s precisely what you do, ruining it for everyone.

Seriously. You're really kind of a bitch.

**Author's Note:**

> The 48 is a collection of fics that sit on my harddrive, unedited and unfinished, because I have Ideas and no motivation. They are eventually put on Ao3 in case anybody wishes to adopt them or finds them interesting.
> 
> So I have been sitting on this for eighteen months... which is why it's probably extremely out of date. I haven't played since then, either. It was originally going to be a post-prom story exploring the whole thing about how monsters clearly choose when to grow up, and our protagonists deciding to do that. It didn't get past this and another two pages.  
> Maybe someone else can find a story in here!


End file.
